


Sleight of Hand

by yohlenyaoilover



Series: Prison Break: The Project [10]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Bottom Michael, Breathplay, Homosexuality, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yohlenyaoilover/pseuds/yohlenyaoilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That it's not a me versus you thing. It's an us thing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleight of Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my lovely project!  
> I've started re-watching Prison Break and plan on writing a short fic after each episode.  
> Each story will be titled to match the episode.  
> Sometimes the stories will relate directly to the main storyline, sometimes I'll pick out one moment that really strikes me and run with it.  
> This series will explore a whole bunch of pairings, with each one being a stand alone fic.
> 
> This story is for Season 1, Episode 10.  
> I'm so in love with John Abruzzi. Any time I can get a story with him in, I will try my absolute hardest. 
> 
> Let's go!

_"I was thinking about what you said," Michael walked up behind Abruzzi in the yard, "That it's not a me versus you thing. It's an us thing."_

-

Abruzzi was rough; his hands, his beard and his hips slamming against's Michael's rear. All rough and anger and brute force _man_.   
And Michael loved it.   
He was pressed face down on a table in one of the store rooms off of the main corridor in the prison. Abruzzi's dick hard and eagerly pushing inside him. Michael couldn't control the sharp intake of breath and grunts that escaped him. His own hips banged against the sharp edge of the table, the spikes of pain sent Michael higher and higher, his pleasure mounting.

-

_"That's right," Abruzzi turned to face the other con.  
"How far are you willing to go with that?" Michael lowered his voice, rasping gently. He was hinting at something._

-

Michael couldn't get enough of the man behind him. Maybe it was the danger, the sheer thrill of being at the mercy of a man who would kill him almost without hesitation. This was the man that had held him down and ordered his toes to be cut off, the man who had lured T-Bag in to a secluded room and had his men beat the shit out of him. The man who had killed how many men in cold blood on the outside?  
Michael felt his dick twitch violently, a bead of precome leaking from the tip.   
Abruzzi grasped his hips in his strong hands and began pulling Michael back to meet his thrusts. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room. Abruzzi's breathing sped up with their increased pace. 

-

_"As far as I have to," Abruzzi said with conviction. The pair stood in the yard, a warm breeze passing them. Somehow it felt like they were on different pages._

-

"Fuck!" Michael cried out, his fingernails scrapped across the table top searching frantically for something to hold on to. Abruzzi slammed against his prostate over and over, shock waves of hot pleasure raced up Michael's spine.   
"Not going to last," Michael gasped. He wanted desperately to get a hand on his dick, he'd have come a long time before now if he had been able to touch himself. But Abruzzi liked it best when Michael came from just his dick in his arse.  
And Abruzzi always got his way. The taller man reached one hand up and grasped the back of Michael's neck, pressing his fingers against his jugular. His thumb wrapped around to push against his windpipe, just enough to make drawing in breath difficult.   
Michael's whole body tensed up, his hips jerking backwards and his hole clenching sporadically around Abruzzi's dick.  
"Fuck, just like that," Abruzzi groaned, his movements beginning to falter. All Michael could do was gasp and sweat and struggle to draw in breath. His head was getting light and it felt like fire was racing up his spine.   
Before Michael could utter a word he was coming, hot ropes of white shot across the floor beneath the table, each one weaker than the last.  
Abruzzi hummed in approval, his hand leaving the back of Michael's neck in favour of retuning to his hips. He didn't stop thrusting through Michael's orgasm, the delicious friction from that fluttering hole sending him closer and closer to the edge.   
"God, don't stop," Michael panted against the wooden table top. His words were slurred slightly from his pleasure, "Don't ever stop."  
Abruzzi loved it when Michael was desperate like this. He could probably have fucked him through another orgasm untouched if they had the time, but this was prison and money could only buy you so much of that in here.   
"John," Michael whined and clenched down one final time. Abruzzi groaned loudly and pushed in as far as he could, shooting his hot load as deep inside Michael as he could. His legs shook slightly as he pulled out.   
Michael moaned at the loss and quickly pressed his fingers to his wide, fluttering and exposed hole. He didn't want to lose any of Abruzzi's seed from inside him for as long as possible.   
The mobster couldn't take his eyes off of the younger man. He reached over and gently urged Michael on to his back, stepping forwards one more so Michael could wrap his long slender legs around his waist.   
"It's not a me versus you thing," Abruzzi whispered, leaning forwards to brush the words against Michael's lips. His now flaccid dick twitched weakly at their position. How he would love to take Michael this way too. Next time perhaps.  
"It's an us thing," Michael finished, his voice weak and tired.  
Abruzzi smiled.


End file.
